“The Helm of Calling!” Mapper shouted.
All eyes turned to the old NPC.
“That’s right.” Watcher nodded. “The skeleton general still has the Helm of Calling, and he’s carrying it to his warlord.” Expressions of shock and fear covered the mourning faces that stared up at him. “The skeleton warlord cannot be allowed to use that relic. If he does, it will mean the destruction of every villager in the Far Lands.” He drew Needle and pointed it to the southwest. The enchanted weapon blazed bright purple, shading the faces around him with an iridescent glow. “We know where he’s going. I’m sure that general is traveling faster now that he’s alone, but we must catch him.”
“Then why are we standing around here, gabbing, when we should be running?” Blaster pushed through the crowd, then held his long knives in the air. “I say … it’s time to sprint!”
“Yeah!” the villagers cheered.
“Follow me!” Watcher said, then jumped off the block of dirt.
With the villager army—his army—behind him and a huge flock of parrots squawking overhead, Watcher sprinted out of the castle and through the Bad Lands, heading for an army that was many times their size. The night sky was dark, devoid of stars because of the gray cloud of smoke that forever lingered over the landscape. A pale circle of light tried to pierce through the haze; it was the moon, but it shed little light. Fortunately, the many streams of lava gave enough light to see.
Watcher felt nervous as he ran. He knew this upcoming battle would either be a complete victory or a stunning defeat, depending on his strategy. He was risking all of their lives … even Planter’s life, and the thought of losing her made him quake with fear. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Her blond hair streamed behind her like a flag of gold, a confident expression on her beautiful face.
I have to keep her safe, he thought. Somehow, I must come up with a plan that will keep them all safe.
The problem was … he had no idea how to give his comrades an advantage so they wouldn’t be wiped out as soon as they set foot in the Hall of Pillars. Yes, that was tomorrow’s problem, but tomorrow was approaching, fast.
CHAPTER 29
Rusak sprinted through the smoky terrain, the light from the boiling lava making it easy to see, though the night sky was pitch black. When he reached the end of the Bad Lands, the skeleton darted into a birch forest that hugged close to the fractured landscape and hid behind a tree. Glancing around the trunk, he checked to see if anyone was following.
“I can’t believe that boy-wizard shot Lightning Blade from my hand.” He looked down at his bony fingers, one of them noticeably shorter.
The gray haze, lit from underneath by the many lava rivers, glowed a soft orange as if the air itself were on fire. Everything appeared still, with no movement visible.
The skeleton breathed a sigh of relief. “Maybe my warriors destroyed them.”
Reaching up, he wiped his sweaty skull with a bony hand. Just then, something glowing a soft purple emerged from the smoky background. As it neared, it grew brighter and more defined; it was a sword.
“He’s still following,” the general growled, frustrated. “That can only mean all my skeletons are destroyed.” Rusak scanned the forest, making sure no one was trying to sneak up on him, then turned back and glared at his pursuer. “That little runt never gives up! Well, let’s see how fast he can run.”
Reaching into his inventory, Rusak pulled out a set of leather boots. They were colored a dark, dark black, as if made of shadows. A subtle purple hue sparkled around the edges of the boots, the magical enchantment held within the thick shoes making them glow.
He slipped the boots over his pale feet then stood and wiggled his boney toes.
“I knew I’d need these enchanted boots eventually. The wizard that made these would be horrified to learn they were being used by a skeleton instead of an NPC.” He laughed a dry laugh, his jaw clicking together and adding a percussive beat to the chuckle. “Let’s see if the Swift Boots are really as fast as the ancient books say.”
Rusak glanced at the boy and his glowing sword. More NPCs were emerging from the haze with weapons in their hands; far more had survived the battle than he would have thought. The red-headed boy held a slim blade before him and turned to the left and right as if searching for something. The sword glowed a bright purple when it was directed at Rusak. Pointing, the villager walked across the baked landscape, straight toward Rusak’s hiding place.
“So, you want to follow me … perfect. I’ll lead you straight to the Hall of Pillars and into the arms of the skeleton warlord. He has a massive army just waiting to meet you.” Rusak laughed, his jaw clicking. “Let’s see how you fare against Rakir and the great Fossil Bow of Destruction.”
Turning, he took off running, the magical enchantment in the boots letting him dash across the landscape with incredible speed. Rusak sprinted through the birch forest, the white trunks passing him in a blur. When he reached a small lake, the Swift Boots allowed him to run across the surface as if it were made of stone, his speed keeping him aloft. The leaves swayed and rustled as he zipped past, many falling to the forest floor. They would likely show his path, but Rusak didn’t care. He wanted these villagers to follow him … to their doom.
He sped through the forest in a few minutes, a trek that would normally have taken an hour, moving into an extreme hills biome. Tall, steep mountains loomed high into the evening sky, many too steep to climb. A group of three tall peaks stood out in the distance, their profiles blocking out the sparkling stars … the Triplets; he was almost home.
Suddenly, he stumbled and fell as the magical power in the Swift Boots was finally exhausted. The dark leather no longer had the sparkling purple hue … now they were just boots. Pulling them off his feet, the skeleton cast them aside, then stood.
“You served your purpose well,” the skeleton general said to them.
Slowly, he walked along the well-traveled path that led deeper into the hilly biome. The trail wound its way around steep mounds of stone and dirt, heading toward the three largest mountains up ahead. The smell of smoke nibbled at the edges of his senses. Soon, a wide crevasse came into view, the glow of lava and clouds of ash spilling out of the rift and filling the air. A waterfall spilled down one of the tall peaks, crashing around trees and blocks of stone until the liquid splashed into the deep crevasse, freezing some of the lava into cobblestone, with the occasional dark cube of obsidian formed where the lava source had once existed. Rusak easily leaped over the gap and continued toward his goal.
A stick broke off to the right, as if it were stepped on by something … or someone. Rusak pulled out his bow and notched an arrow, just to be safe, then continued his route. It eventually led him to the three tall peaks. Directly between the rocky mountains was a wide hole. It yawned open like the maw of some gigantic, underground beast, its throat cloaked in darkness. Rusak moved to the side and peered into its shadowy depths.
“It’s good to be back home,” he said in a low voice. “The skeleton warlord will be pleased to know a host of villagers is following close behind. I’m sure he’ll want to prepare a little reception for them.”
The general removed the arrow from his bowstring, then dropped it on the ground. He smiled as he put his bow back into his inventory, then stared down into the dark hole once more. The light from the setting moon tried to pierce the darkness of the opening, but the magical enchantments wrapped around the entrance to the Hall of Pillars kept everything cloaked in an inky blackness. Only someone who knew the path and knew where to jump could avoid the fall to the ground, which would be fatal.
Rusak smiled. “Wizard, I wish I could be here to watch you try to do our little parkour course without any sunlight.”
He could almost hear the screams of the villagers in his imagination as they plummeted to their deaths. It made his smile grow larger and larger. Then he leaped into the darkness and was swallowed by the shadows, his laughter echoing off the walls of
the black abyss.
CHAPTER 30
Sunrise was a welcome relief; the painted eastern horizon, with its warm reds, oranges, and yellows, filled the villagers with hope.
“It’s good to be able to breathe again,” Blaster said. “My mouth felt as if I’d been licking the remains of an old campfire.”
“Drink some water,” Planter said. “It helps.”
Blaster accepted a bottle of water and drained half of it, then poured the rest over his head, washing the soot from his hair and face. Removing the rest of his black leather armor, he replaced it with a set of white to match the birch trees in the forest.
“Where’s our friend?” Cutter asked.
Watcher held Needle out before him and moved until the blade turned a bright purple, creating a small circle of iridescent light around the boy, driving back the colorful rays of the morning sun. “He’s still heading to the southwest. Likely, that’s where his Hall of Pillars is located.”
Mapper opened his ender chest and rifled through the ancient books until he found the book of maps. “I see the Bad Lands on the map, and this birch forest, but to the southwest all there is on the map is something called The Leap of Faith.”
“That sounds familiar.” Cutter glanced at Watcher. “Like the time you shoved us off that cliff … that was a leap of faith, wasn’t it?”
“You shoved people off a cliff?” Cleric asked, a disapproving parental tone to his voice.
“Well … I was … umm …”
Cutter smiled at Planter, then both started to laugh, the big NPC slapping the boy on the back. He almost knocked Watcher to the ground.
“The Hall of Pillars must be near that spot on the map,” Watcher said, changing the subject. “Everyone eat something, then we run.”
The villagers gobbled up cooked meat, or bread, or pieces of fruit, then ran, following Watcher and his glowing sword. They moved quietly through the birch forest with archers scanning the surroundings for threats while the swordsmen stayed at the center of the formation, guarding the elderly and wounded, of whom there were many more now.
“What do you think this Hall of Pillars looks like?” Planter asked.
“When we were in the Capitol and I was wearing that magical chain mail armor we took from the zombie warlord, I saw the skeletons in their underground lair. There were huge pillars underground, each lit with redstone lanterns. The massive columns stretched up to a ceiling that was impossibly high.” He moved closer to Planter and lowered his voice. “In that gigantic chamber, I saw the warlord and his army of monsters. There were hundreds of skeletons in there with him, every one of them armed and many wearing armor.”
Watcher placed a hand on her arm and they slowed to a walk. Drawing her gaze to his, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t know how we’re gonna face that horde. If they’re all at one end of the chamber, and we’re at the other end, then we’ll have to charge straight at them. With all those skeleton archers firing at us, they’ll cut us to pieces as we run across that chamber. Somehow we need to get close enough to make their bows useless.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure out how to do it. I have confidence in you,” Planter said.
Watcher sighed. He didn’t like all this responsibility.
“Archers, watch the treetops,” Winger shouted. “There could be spiders up there.”
His sister glanced at him for just an instant, then turned and continued walking through the forest.
I should have told them to do that, he thought. I’m supposed to be in command, but I don’t even know what I’m doing. Now I must figure out how to get past all the skeleton archers that’ll likely be waiting for us. Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in all this responsibility.
He thought back to that obsidian tower in the ocean and the feeling of defeat when the chilling water started to flood the chamber. It was lucky they’d had the Frost Walker boots, or they would have all perished.
“We’re almost out of the forest,” a voice said to his left.
Turning, he found Blaster in gray armor smiling at him. “It’s extreme hills next, with lots of stone-covered peaks. There’s a trail that heads toward some big mountains. I bet that’s where our friend went.”
“I don’t like the extreme hills biome,” Winger said. “There are always lots of tunnels and caves all over the place.”
“And caves mean monsters,” Blaster said with a grin.
“Are we still heading for that skeleton general?” Cutter’s voice boomed, far too loudly, if they were supposed to be sneaking up on the skeletons.
“Shhh …” Watcher replied in a quieter voice. He pointed Needle away from him, then slowly turned. The sword pointed still to the south west. “The skeleton went into the extreme hills biome for sure.”
Watcher put away the weapon, then glanced at Blaster. His friend adjusted his gray leather armor, then cast him his ever-present grin, easing some of Watcher’s fears … but not all. “You said there was a trail that leads through the extreme hills?”
“Yep. It goes around the small mountains up ahead, then heads straight for the group of three really tall peaks.” Blaster took out one of his long, curved knives and held it into the air. Light from the morning sun shone through the branches and leaves, hitting the blade. The keen edge reflected the light, making it glow as if heated from within. “There’s a lava filled crevasse crossing the path, but I’m sure that’s where the skeleton general went.”
“We need to get that enchanted relic back.” Watcher turned and found Mapper and his father, Cleric walking behind them. “If that skeleton warlord gets his hands on the Helm of Calling, he can bring thousands of skeletons to the Far Lands. Nothing will be able to stand against him.”
“We aren’t gonna let that happen, are we?” Cutter voice was filled with determination.
Watcher envied the NPC’s courage, but when he saw Planter staring up at the big warrior, the envy was instantly replaced with a different sort of jealousy.
They followed Blaster through the edge of the forest and into the extreme hills biome. Patches of grass sat between blocks of stone. The grass was clearly crushed, as if this were a common path for the skeletons.
“Son … wait a minute.” Cleric put a hand on Watcher’s shoulder.
He stopped and faced his father, curious.
“I have something for you. I found it in one of the rooms in that building in the Bad Lands, and since it’s a little cooler, I figured you could wear it now.” Cleric reached into his inventory and pulled out a set of iron armor and tossed it to his son.
Watcher removed his chain mail and put on the chest plate and leggings. The metal glowed with a magical sheen, its surface shiny and reflective like Needle.
“It’s so lightweight,” the boy said, surprised.
“That’s probably from the enchantment on it.” Cleric tapped the chest with a knuckle. The metallic surface rang like a gong. “Hopefully this will keep you safe.” A worried expression came across the old man’s face.
“I know what you’re gonna say … I’ll be as careful as I can be.” Watcher smiled.
Cleric nodded and rustled his son’s reddish-brown hair with his hand. “Fearlessly believe in yourself without doubt or caution. The first step to success is believing you can do a thing … all the rest is just details.”
Watcher smiled as the words sunk in, driving some of the lurking fear from the back of his mind. Fearlessly believe in yourself, he thought. That’s what I must do … he glanced at Planter … with everything and everyone.
They continued along the trail, with the archers watching the hills on either side and the swordsmen clustered at the center of the formation. They moved along the trail in complete silence. It curved around a small hill, then ended at the center of a trio of mountains, each capped with snow. A long, crashing flow of water fell down the face of the nearest peak. The liquid flowed across the stony ground and then fell into a wide ravine. Sizzles from water landing on molten stone fil
led the air, as did smoke and ash; it reminded Watcher of the Bad Lands, though not nearly as bad.
He found a narrow spot and placed cobblestone, forming an impromptu bridge for everyone. They crossed the deep gorge without incident and followed the skeleton’s path until it ended at the edge of a huge pit, the interior cloaked in darkness.
“You can see the footprints lead straight to this massive hole,” Planter whispered, confused. “But where did they go?”
Watcher knelt on the ground and extended his hand into the huge opening. It was instantly swallowed by the shadows, making it appear as if it were missing.
“There’s some kind of enchantment on this hole,” Watcher said. “Light from the sun can’t seem to penetrate its interior.”
“Then how do the skeletons go into it?” Planter asked.
“They take a leap of faith.” Cleric put a hand on Mapper’s shoulder. “Are there any clues in that book of yours that might help?”
The old man shook his head. “I checked when we stopped. There is no mention about this other than its name.”
Watcher moved to the edge of the pit. He picked up an arrow he found on the ground, then tossed it into the darkness. Maybe ten seconds ticked by before they heard the shaft clatter to the bottom of the pit.
Blaster moved to the edge and stared down into the opening. “That took way too long to hit the ground. Nobody survives a fall like this. I’m thinking this is a bad idea.”
“This is the way the skeletons get into their Hall of Pillars,” Watcher said. “We have to do the same if we plan on taking back the Helm of Calling.” He stepped to the edge of the pit. “I guess they call it the Leap of Faith for a reason.” Watcher leaned forward and was preparing to jump when Winger reached out and pulled him back.
“Wait, I have an idea.”
Winger pulled out the bow she found in the warlock’s workshop. The magical weapon pulsed with power, the edges of it sparkling with purple light. When she notched an arrow to the string, the bow flashed red, as if something had just caught fire. The tip of the arrow gave off a crimson glow as thin tendrils of smoke snaked their way from the pointed shaft and into the air.
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